


Letters and Surnames

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-15
Updated: 2011-07-15
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Lily writes a letter. Sounds simple enough, right? Well, she does have a little problem with it... Or, rather, with her own last name. One-shot.





	Letters and Surnames

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

  


“Potter,” she yelled, “you are utterly infuriating!”

“Why, Evans, I do believe that’s a new record! Three minutes, twenty-four seconds, and thirteen milliseconds before shouting at me! Have you been taking anger management courses?”

The good-natured, messy haired young man, after suavely making this repartee, sat down on his bum and started chortling.

Green irises started to pierce into his hazel eyes. “No. I have simply been trying to be more mature, unlike you. _Grow up, Potter_.”

He unblinkingly stared back. “I don’t think I really need to. After all, I _am_ a good five inches taller than-”

“Shut your mouth, you great plodding sod of an idiot!” She raised her hand to slap him, but stopped quite suddenly. Her mouth started opening and closing, akin to a Stupefied goldfish.

“Erm… Lily, what’s wrong?” He had grabbed her wrist to prevent her from hitting him. He noted that her wrists were the most slender and elegant things he had seen in his life, apart from her handwriting, her figure, and…

“Stop holding my wrists,” the redhead choked out. She started blushing.

He dropped her wrists as fast as possible, but not before he leaped back a few steps. “Whoa there Lils, I let go of your wrists, don’t start hexing me already-!”

She stared into the ground and started mumbling. He was confused.

“Uh. Lily? Evans? Oh bugger, what have I done now?”

She continued staring at the ground. His grasp had sent a shock, entirely too pleasant, down her small frame and back up again. And she had noticed that when he had been staring back at her, that she could see specks of gold and shards of amethyst in his deep hazel eyes, entirely too captivating for any person to handle. What did he do, wear colored contacts or something underneath those stupid glasses?

“Nothing, nothing,” she mumbled. “I’m going to go write a letter, see you later.”

James Potter was a little shocked. He wasn’t going to get hit?

“I’ll wallop you later after I finish my letter.” She stumbled out of the room. He grinned. So at least his dearest Lily was _somewhat_ normal! He wondered whether applying some sort of charm to his face would help erase the red handprint on his left cheek that he was bound to receive – it had taken three days for the last one to vanish. He went off to ask Remus – that genius of a werewolf was sure to know!

===

Lily took a deep breath, then whipped out a quill and a clean sheet of parchment from her bag. She then walked towards her room.

“Beethoven, come here.” She commanded in a singsong voice, a feat that only Lily had mastered out of all of the students in the castle. She had found that Prefects were much easier to manage when they were both mesmerized and terrified by her singing commands.

Her tawny owl flew into her Head dormitory from an outside branch. Beethoven had never liked the other owls, preferring instead to live on a branch of the tree growing directly outside the window.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you respond to Beethoven anyways, you lunk,” she crooned affectionately. She had named him Albert at first, but then Potter the prat had chatted with her owl in first year for an hour while she hadn’t known. He kept calling him Beethoven, because, in his words, “Just look at you, you’re no Albert! You look like you have a great big wig on your head. Wig head. Head wig. Haha that would be a silly name, though, calling you Wighead or Hedwig or something dumb. Hope no one ever tries to name his owl a dumb name like that. But anyways, you look like Beethoven!” After that, she had plenty of difficulties trying to call her owl, until Potter the prat had told her that her owl was named Beethoven. He had been unable to sit down for weeks afterwards – even the professors were impressed with the repertoire of hexes the little feisty first-year girl had at her command.

“I’m going to write a letter to my mum.” Beethoven nodded. He knew the drill. She would have half an hour to write, before he would take the letter from her and deliver it – she had told him to, after she had taken an ungodly four hours the first time she tried to write a letter.

_Dear Mum,_

_How are you? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. I hope Petunia’s happy with her hubby – I still wish we were closer, but you know how it is, Mummy. Ever since I’ve had magic… well, no complaining in front of you, I know you want me to be strong!_

_Tell Daddy I love him too! The singing card he got me yesterday was so adorable! He forgot that it wasn’t my birthday yet, but he wrote instead that he hoped a Muggle invention like a singing card would at least keep my attention in a magical world. Silly, sweet Daddy – you and Daddy know that I love you both very very much, and that I don’t mind being the only magical one in the family. I’m still your daughter, after all!_

_Anyhow, your last letter had me confused. Why did you say to start calling my Head partner by his first name? I mean, yeah, I know James is his name, but he’s still darn irritating sometimes. I know, I know, you already pointed out that he’s stopped pranking people, and that he’s handsome and tall and talented and smart, and all that rubbish, but he still infuriates me on purpose! That prat and his ego. And no, Mum, you’re not going to make any sort of wedding plans for the two of us, like I would ever marry him!_

_Time’s running out! Gotta go, toodles!_

_Love,_

_Lily Potter_

She signed with a flourish. There. Now that she had gotten her irritation out of her system by spilling it onto paper, she felt immensely better. Then she did a double take.

_What_ had she signed herself as?

She glanced back down at the signature. _Lily Potter_ , she mouthed in horror. She took her quill and obliterated “Potter”, burning red in shame. She then signed again.

As Lily Potter.

Dear Merlin, what had gotten into her hand?! She started to scream, then thought better of it, and crossed out the surname again. She pulled out another piece of parchment, and wrote repeatedly, _Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans Evans. EVANS._

With a grin, she picked up the letter and signed her surname again. As Potter. She screamed.

“What is wrong with this quill?!” Lily was infuriated, and scratched out the last part again. She signed again.

Lily Potter.

And again, she furiously scratched out the parchment, accidentally ripping a small hole in the crisp material. She signed again.

Lily Potter.

And she tried again.

Still Lily Potter.

Beethoven then flew back in from the window, hooting. It was thirty minutes, and he was going to take the letter now.

She screeched again. “No, Beethoven, no! I’m not done yet!”

He hooted again, then pecked her fingers in annoyance. He had gone through this two or three times at the beginning of first year, where she had tried to shoo him off so she could continue writing, but he really had not expected her in her seventh year to pull off such an action again.

She panicked. She went into singing mode. “No, no, Beethoven, I’m really not done yet, I’ll only be a minute-“

He hooted again in annoyance. The last time he had given her a minute, it had taken an hour. Unceremoniously, he swooped down and snatched the letter from her, then flew away.

She stamped her foot. “Damn. Now what am I going to do? Right, I still have to hit Potter.” Yet she sat down, dejectedly. First she signed her own name wrong, now she didn’t feel the urge to whack the idiot. What was going on?

===

Two hours later, she received the following reply.

_Dear Lily,_

_This is Daddy writing, as Mummy has simply fainted from shock. When did you get married?! Of course, we’re both ecstatic that you chose that James boy, heavens knows that we’ve approved of him for years, and we know he’ll treat you right. Looks at you as if you were the sun, he does. And stop teasing with "like I would ever marry him," we know better than that!_

_Now remember, Lily my dear, use protection until you really do want a baby. I know, you’re probably rolling your eyes at me, but you’re still Daddy’s little girl, and I don’t want to think about you doing something that you’ll regret._

_I’m glad that you loved my card, Lily dearest. But I’m much more certain that there’s been a little_ **magic** _going on in your life that you haven’t been telling your parents, right? I’m still stunned that you’re already married! You didn’t even invite us! Mummy’s still bawling her eyes out, but I tried to comfort her. Silly woman then said that she wasn’t sad that you didn’t invite us, but that you were surely the happiest girl on the face of the earth. I rather agree! Do tell us your honeymoon plans, though, that would be wonderful!_

_Love,_

_Daddy_

Lily groaned. 


End file.
